Lethal Liar
by Sallen
Summary: Being the only two Non-Career tributes in the Career Pack can be a difficult thing to conquer. Being labeled as two 'traitors' to the alliance is even worse. Peeta, the male tribute from Twelve, and Slate, the male tribute from Three, can only midways speak to one another. But even that is difficult enough in the Arena.


**A/N: Hello, people of FanFiction. If you happened to stumble upon this story, that is actually pretty good for me. Anyhow, this is a one-shot over the two Non-Careers (Peeta, District 12, and Slate, District 3) in the Career Pack, basically. This is told in the POV of Slate, for the little District 3 male never gets enough love, in my opinion. This takes place the day before the Tracker Jacker attack in the Arena. Any questions? Happy Hunger Games.**

**Disclaimer. However, disclaimers are not needed since we already know it is a FanFition and all...**

* * *

I kick at the hard-packed earth, watching as the small pebbles and dirt spring up into the air and sprinkle back down to the ground in a cloud of dust. The grass, discolored and dead, lying upon the dug-up patches of the terrain, were only a part of the early stage of the promise to protect the supplies I had made the Careers. Placed inside the numerous holes around the pyramid of weapons, the mines are to be concealed by the remaining grass and dirt before activation.

It was no difficult task to reactivate the landmines bordering the silver starting plates. Perhaps one from the more oblivious districts would find it arduous, however, I worked in the factories back home; I knew explosives all to well.

Simply adding just the slightest bit of pressure into the area of a mine would surely set it off, sending the tribute in which who disturbed it into smithereens. This would be a sight for the Careers, even more that I would prove to be useful for them, hopefully convincing them not to annihilate me from the competition.

So many flaws in my promise... What would happen if one of the mines is set off on accident? It would take the Pack no longer than a few moments to turn on me, the thought of death being nowhere near as bad as what my opponents would actually do. Clearly, the alliance could strive without me. I am just the kid they happened to adopt into the group for defense reasons.

Only, my chances are so much better now in the Career Pack than when I was off in the Arena alone.

A call pierces my ears as I am snapped back into reality by the sound of my name. This voice surprised me. I assumed it to be Marvel making another small insult at me, or Cato to make yet another demand. Instead, it is the voice of Peeta Mellark, the only other Non-Career in the alliance.

Arrogance is a trait every Career shares. Peeta, however, seems to be able to pull it off. Even though the Careers just barely believe that he is a killer, I am no fool. There are many incidents in the past where tributes have lost their morals to survive the Games, where tributes had turned into monsters.

Peeta is clearly not that kind of tribute. He claims that his memorable response to having feelings for his district partner was a joke, a lie to get the upper hand.

Acting as though he is a Career tribute proves to be a dangerous task; it turns his home district against him. It is only so clear to me that Peeta was feeding the Capitol the truth in his interview with Caesar Flickerman; he really did care about Katniss Everdeen. And joining the Careers was the way to lead them away from her.

Actually very intelligent for someone from District 12.

I lift my head up to see a questioning Peeta standing before me, examining the various empty holes surrounding the supplies.

No surprise in his features, he shrugged. "Still not finished?" he asked. "Cato sent me; he said he wanted the mines finished within the next few hours, or at least before dark so multiple of us can get sleep for the night with no worries of brigands."

I bite my lower lip, glancing at the supplies. "I would not worry about any thieves... There are only two tributes that could get away with stealing the items without the explosives in activation. I am positive no one could get away with stealing anything after I am finished."

"How much longer will it take?"

"Not much longer... I would have been finished by now... But with Cato shouting out tasks plentiful of times, it is pretty difficult to stay focused, you know?" I give a small laugh to at least give Peeta some kind of emotion at the moment.

But he never does crack. Either he is a great actor, or I was wrong about him being different from past tributes. I can't be incorrect about that...

"If I had some help, I may be able to get the job done within the next hour," I tell him, eager to spark a conversation with him.

He hesitates. "I would not know how to help. District 12 varies from Three."

I shrug his declining response off, taking a quick glance to the camp, the brightness of the sun gleaming into my eyes, making it near impossible to see too much.

Clove leaned over her knives, spotting out the smallest life force hidden in the grass. The slightest movement, and the animal is given away as the District 2 girl flings a blade into its furry back; the oversized feet give the identity away all too easily: a rabbit. A waste of a throw.

Both tributes of District 1 laughed together by the tents, Marvel picking at the wood that was to be used for the fire tonight as Glimmer continued on with some story. The two of them seemed to be oblivious to their ally Surymie walking by them, inspecting the camp.

Cato, of course, seemed to be missing in action, most likely meaning he was up and about the camp somewhere.

"You know," I utter, "Perhaps you were never exposed to explosives or electrical currents or anything, but you could help dig up some of the last remaining holes."

Peeta remains silent.

"I'm not a Career." I remind him, picking up one of the small wires from a mine. "I would need help with digging back up some of the holes. They may have strength, Cato and them, but I have an actual brain."

He seems to chuckle at this, making his way to the dirt as he picks at the grass immediately. "It is harder to work out your muscles than your brain, for most people." He says, "Careers switch it around, but they are not as clueless as they seem."

"I'm not insulting their intelligence," I tell him, pointing out the first silver plate he was to dig around. "Just questioning their ability to use their head for once. I know they feel as though there are no threats in the Arena, but giving their location away to anyone is a very stupid move."

"It keeps the other tributes away rather than attracting them," Peeta says, beginning to dig up the dirt of a single mine. "The other competitors are sure to realize a fire means a tribute. They would avoid the fire."

I shake my head, knowing that running from a tribute is debatable. "That District 8 girl was not smart enough to avoid creating a fire... That mistake took her life from her."

Peeta removes a pile of earth, setting it aside by his work. "You weren't there when she was killed."

"I know. But she was the last to die. Cato probably got Clove or Marvel to finish her off. He wants to wait-"

"They didn't kill her," Peeta interrupts, throwing the last bit of dirt into the air.

My fingers go numb as I attempt to comprehend that. _They didn't kill her. _Peeta does not even need to confirm who did kill her. It is all but a hazy answer.

"You aren't a killer though..." I remind him. "You aren't like Cato."

Peeta shrugs, "I killed to survive."

"You killed because you chose to." I attempt to cover up how I was putting him in the spot of a murderer, hoping not to strike his nerves, "You didn't have to murder the girl. The others would have."

"The others were arguing on whether she was dead or not. We were wasting time with an altercation like that. We had to move on."

I halt with the wires to take a quick look at Peeta. Back turned, I am unable to tell if he regrets having his first kill or if he was being bitter about it. A tribute like him would play against the rules. What would that kill make him to his district? A winning survivor or a murdering loser? No district wishes to see their own evolve into a killer, but it is required to actually win.

Is he killing to survive, like he claims, or is he killing for something else?

"Why did you join the Careers?" I ask.

Only then do I realize just how stupid that question would be to anyone who simply wanted to live longer in the Arena.

He pauses.

_I just angered him... I know I did... Say something else, Slate! Figure something else out! Don't just sit there like an irritating fool!_

"If you don't wanna say, that is fine." I hesitate, wondering how to keep the conversation going. "I was more daunted than anything else when you guys found me at first... If not for you being able to convince the Careers I was useful, I would have been mutilated most likely..."

Peeta continues forth with digging the next hole, "If you had kept going on about the mines, I am sure they would have kept you anyway. It just would have taken longer for a decision."

"A decision that was made easier," I rectify. "Cato is not concerned with anyone; though that monster from Eleven seems likely to crush other tributes. He seems to be the only threat."

My ally seems to not respond to this, almost condoning my words.

"Unless, you think someone else can be a threat? Who all is left?"

"The seven of us... The fox-faced girl from District 5. The boy from Ten. Both from Eleven... And Katniss."

With a crippled leg, it would be hard for the boy from District 10 to move around, let alone fight. And both Rue and Finch are too small to do much damage on anyone. That leaves Thresh and Katniss... And that 11 in training brings no closure as to why Katniss would be such a major threat. Cato is almost obsessed with hunting her down.

"What about Katniss?" I ask.

Peeta shrugs, "She seems to be an enemy."

"You don't know anything about her? You spent a week with Katniss in the Capitol, so many years back in District 12, and you know nothing about her?"

No response.

"Like I said, I'm not a Career. I actually _have _other emotions than anger. Back in District 3, I didn't really have a lot of friends, so I kept to myself. Being alone had its perks then. Being alone in the Arena has its perks, too. Only, you're not alone. And joining the Career Pack is not to just save your own skin. It isn't worth the risk."

Peeta still says nothing.

"You said you had someone special during your interview, and when Caesar asked, you said she came here with you. It's Katniss. And the Careers hate her for that Eleven as her training score. You're trying to lead the Careers away from her, aren't you?"

A slight nod of the head tell me I am correct about this.

"Am I right?"

Another nod, but Peeta never ceases to continue digging up the holes for the landmines.

"I am only in the Career Pack to survive. You have a reason, though, and I respect you for that, especially since you are willing to do that for someone else. It is going to help in the long run."

Peeta nods once more, "A lethal liar is helpful when it comes to them aiding you. Otherwise, they are traitorous. And if you are a traitor to the Careers, you will be tracked down."

* * *

**So, am I weird or what? Well, yeah. I dunno if that was it, or if I want to write another part to it. Also, since I am as lame as can be, I have an early SYOT, and if any of you would like to submit a tribute, a form is on my profile :P**

**Have a nice day/night.**

**-Sallen**


End file.
